Mummification
by Morning-Tide
Summary: As the god of mummification, Anubis is laden with the unenviable task of mummifying his own father, Osiris.


Mummification. Such an intricate process. How one must so carefully prepare the dead for the passage into the Duat. Yet, I learned it quick, thanks to the god of Knowledge, Thoth, and it became my passion. But much as I usually enjoyed undertaking mummification, only once was the last thing I wanted to do.

Surely, you have heard of Osiris. I would be highly surprised if you did not know him, my father, who was seduced by Nephthys, who consequently gave birth to me. Others say Set is my father, but they are wrong—trust me. Long ago, his own brother, Set, murdered him out of jealousy for the throne. Isis and her sister Nephthys spent many moons searching for Osiris. Once he had been found, Isis immediately raised him to life long enough to conceive a baby. Now here he lay, dead and unmoving on the mummification table. My own father.

Don't ever wish to mummify someone you love. Let me ask—would _you_ want to pull out your beloved's insides and push a hook up their nose to pull out—ah. Thought that might put you off a bit. All this I was used to, but when it is those you have loved dearly, it is harder on a scale unquantifiable.

Now, as I stood looking over Osiris, Isis walked up next to me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Anubis."

I looked round at my aunt, whose eyes were achingly compassionate.

"I'm ready," I promised.

"You don't have to do this," she said, "I'm sure Thoth can do just fine."

I looked down at father, trying to hold back tears. I was already on the verge of breaking down; a lump swelled in my throat.

"I'll do it," I said resolutely, "I have had more practice than Thoth."

As if he'd heard his name, Thoth walked into the mummification room, pausing as he gazed around at us. His expression was controlled; I recalled with a jolt that he had known Osiris and Isis since they were children. Thoth had taught them both great knowledge and wisdom on how to rule the country.

"Anubis, I see you are here," Thoth greeted, "Are you sure you wish to do this?"

I nodded. "He's my father, Thoth. If anyone can mummify him with care, it's me. I am…prepared. Truly."

Thoth tilted his head slightly, his intense gaze searching my face. It was impossible to hide the smallest white lie from Thoth.

"You have much bravery and courage, boy," he complimented, but I heard pity in his voice. "But if you want to stop at any time, you may do so."

"Let's get on with it." I said abruptly, preparing the tools. Isis turned away; she pretended to wipe at her face casually but I knew better. My aunt was weeping.

Nevertheless, Isis stayed near me even as I prepared the body. Nausea rose in my throat as I capped the canopic jars. My hands hovered in a haze of blood over the canopic jars holding father's stomach, liver, intestines, and lungs. I knew I made a mistake right then: I'd allowed myself to stop. I'd permitted my heart to reflect. I wanted to carry on, make myself pretend father was another stranger. My heart refused to let go of the knowledge I had eviscerated my father, former King Osiris.

_My father…my own father…_

Hands trembling, I grabbed the linen, desperate to stave off sudden dizziness, even as Thoth helped with wrapping the bandages. Isis was very quiet, just watching from a distance, her sister's arms wrapped around her.

_He's gone…am I really doing this? Am I really preparing my father? _

A bead of sweat threatened to drip off the end of my nose; I quickly swatted it away. My forehead felt damp with perspiration, my hands shook with weariness and sickness. Osiris's arms were crossed over his chest with great care and respect, as Thoth placed the crown of a pharaoh on the dead man's head.

"The crook and flail, Anubis," Thoth said, his voice sounding oddly distant, as if he were talking from a great distance. "Anubis!"

I flinched, blinking. For a moment, the world had swirled around me, forcing me to grip the side of the table. One of my feet accidentally knocked a canopic jar. Then—I saw my hands, covered in gore. The nausea rose sharply. Someone gripped my shoulders. Though barely able to lift my head, I caught a glimpse of Thoth's face, his eyes full of concern.

"Go outside, boy," he ordered sternly, "you look about to faint at any moment. Get fresh air now."

I shook my head. "No…" I pleaded weakly, "Isis wants to revive him…"

Isis broke away from Nephthys's embrace and put her arms around me, guiding me firmly to the door.

"We can wait, Anubis—even I am not so impatient." Isis said, "Thoth is right."

I started to say no, but then my stomach threatened to retch. I broke from Isis's embrace and ran for the entrance, collapsing as soon as I was outside. I retched horribly, eyes shut tight, as I rested on my hands and knees. Someone rubbed my back, speaking words of comfort—Isis had caught up with me. Her hand brushed my hair, as if I were a little boy again needing comfort after a torrid nightmare. Except this was a waking nightmare, one I could not escape. Just that soothing touch, like a mother's, broke the gates—I found myself sobbing. Isis didn't say a word—she didn't need to, and I didn't want her to. There was nothing she could say. No words could diminish the horror and grief, the way I insisted on doing what I had done for years. Yet…I felt I would not have changed my mind for the world—King Osiris was someone I cared about deeply, and I would have entrusted no one else to the task. Not even the gentle and wise Thoth.

How long was it before I stopped weeping? How much time passed before I calmed down again and my head cleared? It didn't seem to matter, even to aunt Isis, who was normally impatient at the best of times. I tried to wipe my hands in the grass as best I could, but Isis summoned some water, dampening and cleansing them of the gore.

"Better now, all clean." Isis said, "Do you feel like coming in again? Or do you wish for Thoth to take over from here?"

Was I ready? My stomach had settled and tears had dried. Could I face my dead father once again?

"The worst is over," Isis consoled, as if she'd read my thoughts, "all we need to do now is restore Osiris to life."

Without a word, I hauled myself to my feet, Isis holding one of my arms to support me. Side by side, we walked solemnly indoors, ready to restore our beloved Osiris, former king of Egypt, to life once more.


End file.
